


Venia

by CancerianWastelandCat



Series: Abyss of Hearts [1]
Category: the GazettE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Betrayal, Forbidden Love, King/Soldier relationship, M/M, Oneshot, Revenge, Sort of a little magical? A bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:48:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CancerianWastelandCat/pseuds/CancerianWastelandCat
Summary: In which Uruha is a soldier returning home to face his king.





	Venia

**Author's Note:**

> Written past midnight thanks to a burst of inspiration based on the boys' new look for the tour final. Excuse any errors!  
Theme songs: "Blood" & "Tourniquet" by Breaking Benjamin. Hope you enjoy! <3

The night was dark and stormy. Rain gushed against the brick walls of the palace, painting them black beneath the pale moonlight. The crowns of the sky-high trees bent beneath the crushing wind like they were yearning for each other, sending their leaves spiralling to the ground.

The soldier reclined his head. His eyes climbed up the double-winged oak door looming high above him, and from the tips of his dark brown hair a droplet of water dripped into the collar of his uniform. A shiver rippled down his back. He had dreaded returning. 

The doors to the throne room swung open with a heavy, aching sound and Uruha directed his gaze forward. He straightened his shoulders and began to make his way down the corridor. The pillars lining it carried cauldrons of fire that licked towards the endless ceiling, though it was cold and so was its shadows. They decorated the path before him, danced across Uruha's face like demons mocking him on his way to conviction. Lithic arches towered above his head, an architectural threat that every step of his boots echoed off of. His dagger hung ready from the ruby belt beneath his cloak, though he begged to the Gods that he would not have to use it. 

Eventually, the last echo faded into silence and Uruha set foot before his king. 

He gazed at him from the top of the stairs; wordlessly through the flames in his eye. The pillars on his either side were high like giant guardians, higher than the ones Uruha had passed. His beringed hands lay atop the armrests, his legs were crossed and his dark purple gown poured onto the floor, pooling around the plinth of his throne. A pose of ultimate confidence, had it not been for the White in his knuckles. 

“Look who has returned.” 

Uruha lifted his chin at the sound of his voice. It oozed with abhorrence that bit holes into his heart. 

“You knew I would come back.” 

“So I did. Though I was not certain what you were looking to find. There is nothing here for you anymore.”

“Your forgiveness.” 

The king threw his head back with laughter and the jewelry around his neck tinkled like a hundred tiny bells. 

“Oh  _ Uruha, _ ” he mocked. “The only people who know forgiveness are people with hearts in their chests. And I am not one of those people, as you should know. You attempted to kill me after all.” 

Uruha swallowed. His lungs filled with air and a strand of hair fell into his forehead. 

“I never- ”

“Do not  _ dare  _ deny your treachery.”

“I will not.” 

The king sank back against his throne, a vacant mask petrifying his features. “You disgust me.” 

Uruha felt his stance starting to crumble. As though the corridor behind him was starting to close in on him, his chest tightened. There was only so much hate he could take. He knelt. 

“Your Majesty. Please let me explain.” 

“I do not wish for any explanation. I know everything there is to know. I have seen it. I know that I trusted you. And you  _ betrayed  _ me.” 

“I devoted my life to you.” 

The king scoffed. “What a  _ waste. _ You could have done better with it than aim to betray the one you were supposed to protect all along.”

Uruha’s hands curled into fists and he arose, one foot on the bottom stair faster than he could stop himself. 

“I betrayed you because I  _ loved  _ you!”

“I was  _ doomed  _ because you loved me!” 

Echo vibrated through the air. Their chests heaved and their eyes locked as they listened to it fade away. The king had jumped up from his throne, fury breaching his mask, furrowing his brows and hardening his jaw.

“I was  _ tortured, _ ” he spat, descending down the short flight of stairs. His gown billowed behind him like a brocade cape. 

“I was  _ wounded,  _ I was  _ derided, stolen from, humiliated _ . I was  _ stripped  _ of my powers. All because you  _ loved  _ me. You fool.”

Uruha recoiled instinctively, his gaze caught at the eye patch that covered the king’s golden scars. What he had done could not be reversed, that much he knew. 

“Maybe I was a fool,” he said, meeting the king’s left eye. If he only looked deep enough, he would finally grasp the despair and bitterness that had captured his heart. 

“All I did was to protect you. You were lusting for power but your plans were going to fail. They were going to ruin you. Kill you. I told you, I  _ begged.  _ You did not listen. You were blinded. I had no choice. It was the only thing I knew would at least keep you alive. Maybe I was a fool for wanting that.” 

The king stared at him. Firelight slithered across his face like hungry snakes, across his lashes, his full lips and his cheek that Uruha’s palm had so naturally found; cool like marble against the soldier’s warmth. Every touch felt just how Uruha remembered it. 

Slowly, he stepped closer and brushed his thumb carefully along the margin of the eye patch. The king did not withdraw, though he averted his gaze as if he knew what Uruha was looking for. 

“It will not come back,” he said softly. 

“It does not have to. I can imagine its beautiful glow just by looking at you.” 

For the first time, the king smiled. As he touched his fingertips against Uruha’s chest, it was like the touch alone finally sparked hope in both of them. Uruha stood still, hypnotized. The king looked up at him, brushing his palm on a gentle downward stroke as his lips parted for a gentle whisper.

“How bold of you to enter my palace with a blade on your hip.” 

Uruha had no time to move. Fingers dove into his cloak, unsheathed his weapon, rammed his dagger into his stomach. He groaned, faltered. 

The king stepped back as blood gushed to the floor. 

“It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do, don't you think?” he mused, watching with a countenance ever so serene how Uruha went to the ground before him. Panting and moaning in pain, he pressed his hand around the wound. It wasn’t lethal but he knew better than to pull the dagger out. 

The king moved next to him. All Uruha’s panicked vision could catch was his shoes, and then the king’s voice rang through him; low, far away and stricken with a promise he would keep forever.

“You might have found my heart a long time ago, but that does not mean I know forgiveness,” he spoke. “Do not  _ ever  _ betray me again, or I will kill you with my own hands. I will not miss next time.” 

Uruha gasped for air. Moist warmth continued to spread across his abdomen, dripping to the floor. His eyes were directed forward but he saw nothing. The king’s gown swooshed past his face and the sound of his footsteps resounded like thunder in his ears.

Eventually, this echo, too, was swallowed by silence and Uruha was left alone, with the fire and its demons.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts! Kudos and comments are never obligatory but always appreciated <3 Thank you very much for reading!


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